"I get it all the time. After years with this, I've grown dull to it. In fact, I don't even blame anyone for the mistake."It was relatively often for people to assume the common and be confused with the rare entities. It was human nature. He had lived with it for years, with many people who didn't think he would be a near grown-adult already patting his head and messing with his hair. Most were older people, his parent's guests and relatives. Some others were guys younger than him, and like a knife that had sliced through a handful of vegetables and meats, they had the same exact response. But there were some particular individuals whom he didn't really mind: some of the ladies. Usually met as guests and at parties, these girls had no idea. He did find it occasionally annoying, but other times he knew how to take advantage of such naivety.
'New Vastergoth Bakery huh?' As it was told by Diana. He hadn't been to Castleton before. Maybe he could come there one day, once the war is over. But it was rumored to be a town known to have great bakeries and spectacular ancient monuments. Perhaps he could catch heed of the Vastergoth name there. But for now, he had to make sure he made it back to his mother and father in one piece first.
Time passed like a bullet when you did not pay heed to it, but like a turtle when you did. Unfortunately for Michael, he chose, or rather was forced to choose, the latter. Card games soon grow dull, his books he had already memorized letters home hadn't arrived yet, perhaps in the next few days it would, and talking to others - well he didn't have much to say to begin with. Even sitting by
himself, enjoying the solitude of his company almost drove him to insanity. The best he could do at that moment was doodling on his spare paper, trying to draw something or someone. As an engineering student, drawing items would be his forte, but he could also draw more complex things satisfactorily, including people. Maybe at the end of this, he may be eligible for art as well.
Nevertheless, regardless of the perceptions of time, it still marched on like a stallion in a race. They eventually arrived at their destination as the train breathed its steam for one last time. Immediately, he was ushered to gather his equipment and gather up again just like he left Garnia. Before him was a sight completely different from what he had grown complacent to for ages, what he had been taught so vigorously for. This is a new world. A future that he would unknowingly having the chance to experience.
The Siege of Amone - The Final Breakthrough
Michael made sure he did not forget anything on the train before he disembarked and was hurdled into formation, where he was briefed of the upcoming fight he would have to go through. It was a rather change of pace, a pretty welcomed one in fact, to be seeing tents on solid ground instead of endless miles of trenches. It was more...home-like to him. For someone who had been living in the urban environment for all his life. But the fact wouldn't change is that he would be running around shooting people instead of saying hello to them. It was said to even challenge even our 'beloved' captain himself. Then apparently he was now equal to everyone. Well, hopefully equally dead as everybody else.
The order was clear. Amone was to be theirs by the end of the day or they'd be dead. But thankfully enough, he would be fighting in a new suit instead of this mud-drenched uniform. Would that be considered an equal trade? Maybe. Considering he was fighting with the likes of Jean, Isaac, Diana, Franz, Britta and Lucia, it was a good pro for him. At least he would be working with people he knew. However, there are strange faces in the ranks, some of them he had gotten to know on the train, some he was completely unaware. The possibility was there that he would have to work with them. He prayed that if he had to, the process would go smoothly enough.
After Middleton finished his speech, everyone, including the Tyrelian sapper, headed inside for the change of uniform.
The feeling of fresh clothes felt good indeed. He absolute did not have to worry about the wet sleeves or pants that leaked inside. It was annoying to do anything with that. Despite knowing that in just hours away, he'd either be drenched in it again, or the rain would piss on him just like the other day, he'd enjoy it as long as he could. It certainly looked nice, a little loose though, considering there weren't many designed for the likes of him. But this was nothing. He could still fight properly in this.
Michael was among the first to exit, as he witnessed the rest of the squad in their new attire. He did pay particular attention to his fellow Darcsen NCO, as he seemed to mock the fact that even the hat did not make him look any taller than he was. The smirk was returned by his own as he sarcastically shook his head to him. A man's scale was determined by his destiny not by nature's proportion monsieur.
Aside from that snarky remark from his own superior, everybody looked pretty upright to him, more human and civilized comparing to the time at Hill 58. Some were rather...interesting, coming from the other ranks like Britta or Reyna. They did understand the same problem as Michael did. But they looked good nonetheless. But for the lesser party though, one that could fit in very well...
His eyebrows jumped at the sight of it, but his eyes immediately walked away. It was extravagant. It was a beautiful match for the smile she was wearing on her face. The deep blue contrasted to her long illuminating silver strands, as it hugged neatly onto her, exemplifying the look he would ideally imagine.
"Don't look. Don't look..."He turned away. His heart was pounding harshly. Come on. He couldn't afford to be nervous here. He had to remain calm-headed for now. He would look distraught in front of everybody else. He would also probably risk injuring or dying out there if he let that one opportunity go.
His eyes closed. His mind began to count. One. Two. One. Two. Alright, just don't pay attention to her. You had many other things to worry about.
Five minutes before departure, the squad was gathered around by Jean as he gave one final briefing of what to do and where each person would be in this city. Apparently, the sappers would have quite a huge task ahead of them today. They were the tunnel clearer. Carrying the satchel and destroying the Imperial supply tunnel. And the reason this was so important was because an army marched on its stomach, and fought with their metals. Remove both, then they would be useless. While this wasn't a killing blow, as Jean specifically mentioned that they were to continue combating with or without the sappers accomplishing the objective, but knowing that any capable commander would not leave their supplies undefended, Michael could expect a tough fight.
Just as before their departure, Michael and the rest of the squad had the opportunity to watch the charge of the 7th Cavaliers. And at a pretty good spot at that. Damn, practicality aside, they did look dazzling with their uniform and sabres. It was indeed the typical imagination of a knight in shining armor. Well probably not so shining. Usually they would be in heavy metallic armor instead. But he had read history books about warfare though. They were indeed extremely useful creatures back a century ago. Their mighty stallion could break an army completely like a stone hammer to a mirror. But as technology advanced on, the use of firearms had become a lot more common, and new guns were developed in turn, more accurate, more rapid and more deadly. The frontal charge became less useful, infantry and cavalry. In fact the last cavalry charge to affect the outcome of the battle was during the Imperial Alliance's Unification Civil War, and half of the riders wouldn't make it back.
He watched as the riders shook the heaven with their battle cries. And he watched as the product of industrialization solemnly rolled them over mercilessly, regardless of how hard they screamed, how ferocious their steeds were, or how bright their blades shone. One after another, they were cut down like wildfire. Soon, the final blaze of gunfire cried with the tears of the surviving horsemen, as they quickly fell into a deafening silence. And the world had moved on.
Witnessed as these majestic and royal creatures met their doom, Michael slowly turned around, shut his eyes tight before making a quick cross on his body. May their souls rest in peace.
"Sappers! Anyone. If you don't mind one minute." He quickly tried to distract any disturbed viewers of the massacre, and himself as well, as he also tried to know their faces before the big battle. Since probably for most of the fight he would be spending with them in an almost isolated area, Michael thought that getting to know these fellows and formulate some sort of mutual understanding would make them fare better. And better here would mean living through this siege.
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